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Ennison, or any other young man. " There was another pause. " "Loves!" echoed Winifred, slightly colouring. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. "Is this Misther Wudd's, my pretty miss?" demanded the rough voice of the Irish watchman. You need not tell me, but a lawyer is different.
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